Ch. 1 Countdown

WARNING: ENERGON LEVELS CRITICAL. STASIS LOCK RECOMMENDED. PROCEED Y/N?

N. STASIS LOCK OVERRIDDEN. CURRENT ENERGON LEVEL: 10%. REFUEL IMMEDIATELY.

WARNING: FRACTURES DETECTED IN MAIN SUPPORT STRUCTURE. LOCATION: STARBOARD HIP. MEDICAL ATTENTION REQUIRED. CONTINUED USE OF LIMB IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. RECOMMEND CEASE ALL FURTHER MOVEMENT UNTIL INJURY IS STABLE. LOCK LIMB NOW Y/N?

N. LOCKDOWN OVERRIDDEN. SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION IMMEDIATELY.

Megatron made his way aimlessly across the great expanse of sand known as the Sahara desert to the local insects, limping badly. His latest run-in with the accursed Autobots had left him stranded and in a very bad way, with a fractured hip and too little energon to fly, so he was forced to walk. Slowly and painfully.

WARNING: ENERGON LEVELS CRITICAL. STASIS LOCK RECOMMENDED. PROCEED Y/N?

He sighed as the prompt blinked back up in his processor and refused it once again.

N. STASIS LOCK OVERRIDDEN. CURRENT ENERGON LEVEL: 7%. REFUEL IMMEDIATELY.

The Decepticon Lord growled in frustration as he tried to open his communication relays, only to discover that they had been taken offline during the battle. He stumbled as the sand slipped under him, and nearly fell when he put too much weight on his bad leg. He halted, hissing in annoyance and pain, and noticed that his energon reserves were down to six percent. If they went much lower he would be forced into involuntary stasis, a condition that he certainly did not wish to be in while in plain sight in the middle of a Primus-forsaken Earth desert.

Megatron staggered as his orientation chips failed momentarily, causing him to briefly lose his sense of direction, before coming back online. He was down to five percent now and logic screamed at him to rest, but he continued stubbornly onward, limping without destination purely for the sake of movement.

His reserves hit four percent, and static washed through his vision while the orientation chips went offline permanently, the world spun in a nauseating swirl of white sand and blue sky and he went down hard, twisting to avoid landing on his already throbbing hip and worsening the injury. The ground rose up to meet him and he cried out in agony when he hit hard on his back, jarring the fracture, and curled in the sand on his good side to wait out the burning waves.

Three percent, and the cogs in his fuel tanks ground together with no energon to work with, adding a new pain for the tormented mech to focus on. He squeezed his optics shut hard in a futile attempt to lessen the dizziness caused by more than just the failure of orientation chips, and gagged helplessly as there was nothing in his tanks to void. The nausea finally abated enough for him to fully collapse on the alien sand, still warm from the radiation of the nearby star, and resign himself to the imminent stasis lock his processor was so avidly reminding him of, his entire frame trembling in exhaustion and agony.

"Megatron?"

The mech to whom belonged the inquired name dimly registered the call and believed it to be an imagined sound, one created by his failing processor in a last feeble attempt to stave off the inevitable. It came again, more insistent now,

"Megatron!"

Two percent.

He was shaken, quite literally, back to full consciousness and his optics snapped open but wouldn't focus beyond the bloody light of the setting star. Megatron could only moan in protest as the harsh movement sent too familiar rays of pain radiating through his body. The shaking mercifully ended but he found his reprieve to be short-lived as the shaker instead rolled him over onto his back again, drawing a sharp cry from his vocalizer when the broken hip joint was moved. The decepticon felt the tingle of a scanner before another pain, a nearly imperceptible sting, registered in his neck, and suddenly strength flowed into him as his energon levels began to slowly rise. He sighed in relief as his processor came fully back online, orientation chips included, and his optics finally focused… on the smaller, red and blue form of his brother.

"…Optimus?" he inquired weakly. The Autobot commander nodded and reached out to lay a servo on his chest.

"Lay still," the smaller mech advised and, seeing Megatron's obvious confusion, added "I followed you after the battle…Why were you alone?"

"…Wasn't looking for a fight." Megatron managed, "Your Autobots attacked me, not the other way around." Optimus seemed to accept his non-answer for the time being, and disconnected the tube from Megatron's primary energon line. Megatron noted with relief that his reserves were back up to an acceptable thirty-four percent.

"Can you walk?" Optimus asked.

"Can try…" he muttered, and to push himself halfway into a sitting position before the pain forced him back down. Optimus caught him before he hit the sand again and slid one arm behind his shoulders and the other under his knee joints.

"Just try to relax…don't tense up…" Prime advised before lifting him as gently as was possible, but not gently enough. The change in position cracked his hip open a little more and Megatron howled as his vision went white with agony, energon welled around his claws where they dug into his brother's back and arm, and the last thing he heard was Optimus murmuring to him softly before the blessed darkness rose up and sucked him under its warm waves.